Welome to Land In The Stars, and Original Science-Fantasy RPG focused on the drama, war, and politics of the Noble Houses of a stagnating interstellar Empire. Inspired by great works of Fantasy and Science Fiction alike to tell a saga of intimate characterization and epic plot!

Packed snow crunched underneath hardy boots as Stashaper Sikká made their way down the street leading to Tyrssalr's city centre. It was chilling outside, but they barely noticed the cold despite their slight frame. One of their contacts at the Wrights guild had informed them there was a important client looking to hire a capable wright, and since very few institutions save for the great houses could both afford to hire wrights on a permanent basis and had use for their skills, this had earned the Dreygr's full attention. They had made sure to get all the information they could from their contact:when and where the meeting was supposed to take place, how many rival applicants were to be expected and so on. The only thing Sikká's contact couldn't tell them was the exact identity of their prospective client, or indeed, how they were supposed to recognize the person they were supposed to meet, which they presumed was part of the application process.

Well, unless this is someone from House Tyr looking to reclaim some of their former power or a power grab from House Nergal, I'm probably looking for someome from House Hormuz, so it's probably a person with dusky skin in expensive- looking winter clothes... or some servant or retainer from another species. There's only one way to find out.

Sikká paused at an intersection near the area where the meeting was supposed to take place, her glowing blue eyes calmly scanning the area while their lifelike artificial arms brushed away snow that had gathered on their clothes. They had decided to wear their armored engineering suit in case the prospective client demanded a demonstration of their abilities. The suit itself was emblazoned with the symbols of their quorum, guild and the owl lodge, but they had also made some addition in the form of an overcoat bearing the symbol of the wright's guild. They had decided against removing their pircings or attempting to cover up the telltale ichor brands and marks that betrayed their identity as a Dreygr, much for the same reason they had decided against cutting off their dreadlocks and trying a more "orderly" hairstyle. Sikká had earned the honor to be reawakened and thus bear those marks, and they weren't ashamed of their old life (or what they could remember of it, anyway).

The former shipborn craned their neck as they looked around the place. Sometimes it annoyed them how everything seemed to be made for people several heads taller than them, but there had been plenty of times when their small size had been an advantage as well. And while their short and slight stature and pointed ears might have made them a seemingly easy target for a mugging or attack in their former life, those who recognized the ichor brands and marks on their face usually kept a respectful distance.

If that client is as important as my contact thinks they likely brought armed bodyguards to overlook the place, maybe even some locals. thought Sikká as they continued to scan the area for signs of people who seemed to be more on guard than usual. After a while they spotted the building where the meeting would supposedly take place and began to make their way there. They had decided to arrive a bit early to give them time to observe their surroundings and the competition (or in case they had to dodge a bar brawl that sipilled out into the street or other holdups.

"The Ancestors have mercy on my sins."
Waking up in a body she wasn't in before was always one of her least favorite things to do. Zher eyes blazed a cold purple as she flicked them and shifted from the Puppeteer rig that held her home-body. Farangiz tugged rim of the bodysuit she wore. It was more of a bodyglove which slicked to her form and allowed the skin of her body to sit into place. Wait...zher or her? I always hate it when I wake up and I lose my sense of self. They did tell me I would develop the syndrome eventually. Zhe slipped zher hand over the length of the glove and undid the zipper as zher body shook. Oh yes, the biological expression of this one was female, and oh how much zhe hated it. Too much damn softness compared to zher other forms. Annoyed, the Faerin androgyne shook zher hand to get out those damn sierding kink.

"Find me my Keffiyeh! I need to hide my face. Also, I need the contacts for my eyes!" zher voice was an annoying soprano zhe had come to despise. It bothered zhem so much, but the other forms were well recognized. It wasn't hard for zher two bodies or their associated forms were too well known. Preparations would take a bit and zhe was already slowly running out of time. Sure, Farangiz-e-Artaxes ye Hormuz could have demanded the applicant appear on Duzahk at her palace. But by coming here to Tyrsallr herself, she would grant herself a great coup against House Tyr.

House Tyr finds me on their bloody planet they'll string me up and claim I'm just some random low-blood. Mom did have more than a few flings, and it was only through careful select she kept us all under control.

The hovercraft was a sleek arrowheaded shaped craft and as it zipped through the air traffic of Tyrsallr zhe felt desire to be off the damn coled worled. The black silk keffiyeh scarf covered most of zher face, and the fine aqualine features known to her family. The Bloodmark was hidden even better beneath a skin-plasm patch and zher eyes were no longer purple. Fara would be the young woman sent to speak for a House on Duzahk to hire a new Wright. One off world, and trained in something new to bring new talents to zher personal staff.

Scorpion waits for me back along with my squire, I do not like leaving my chariot the city outskirts. This place reeks of cold, and it's far too damp for my liking. Farangiz narrowed zher eyes as the craft came to a shuddering stop and the door lifted open. A large rectangular building near the city center was zher stop. Both guards walked out in front of zhem, both cloehd in light grey ada plated armor. They were authorized members of Ormazshahr's Defense Forces and secretly one was a member of the Knight Corp sworn to zher house.

Fara swept delicate manicured fingers over the hilt of zher soulsinger, Sting, and smiled. Zhe was safe for now at least. If only zhe had no chosen to appear the effeminate fool though! Quicly zhe rearranged her personal her mind shifting as was due her nature. Pronouns refitted themselves into place as she went from the cold stolid in control Farangiz to the simple voice hand maiden she hid her true self as.

"The Arashii should be meeting us soon." Her voice fitted the look she held as her dress fell over her body in waves of muslin. Tanned legs peaked out over high spiked heels as she took a step forward. Zhe smiled, she was in control. I am fluid with whatever I desire. I am the Golden Throne...I AM ROOK. Deviousness hid behind that veil. She rested her hands together and walked into the lobby of the building. Several holoscreens were projecting the latest feeds from a few ongoing gravball games. A Mecha Tournei between two low ranking Errant was also in progress.

Fara stopped, her eyes tracking the movement of the holofigures. The two mecha, one was an old looking one likely generations old. The other was strange and caught her attention. But, before she could identify it her PND beeped in her pocket The guards were her led her to a small table set aside in a caffeine bar, she took a seat and waited for the Dreygr to join them. Of course, as she used the PND to locate the application and a little information. She sent the men out well one, he was dressed in the normal formal three-piece suit of a bodyguard and had the identification data for the girl.

He found the Shipborn Dreygr closeby and said, "Miss Starshaper? I speak for House Hormuz, and we are waiting to interview you." The man tapped his PND and sent the information to their own display. It showed the House Bloodmark and the official seal of the family. He then indicated the woman sitting over at the table who was busily reading through a plas-paper menu. The woman's eyes shaded blue, to hide her true birth gazed at the elfin creature. One singular gesture and she waved with the her index finger. Farangiz wated a total of three seconds before she said.

"Hello Sikka. Your resume is impressive. Shall we begin the interview? she wet her lips with her tongue and added, "Why should my factors hire you?"

Miss, eh? Well, close enough. thought Sikká as they followed the man in the three- piece suit to a table where a young woman awaited them, or at least a person who appeared to be a young woman. Sikká usually didn't tell other people their prefered pronouns during their first meeting, though they didn't hold it against people who did. The only sign of displeasure was a minor twitch of their ears as they rose from the chair and followed the man. Sikká took a seat opposite of the woman and rested their hands on the table's edge as they looked up at the taller woman while their slim, lifelike legs rested again't the chair's legs. She has pretty eyes. Is she wearing contacts? I think she is.

"Well, I can think of a number of reasons." the elfin wright replied with a small smile that was matched by their ears perking up. Their voice was clear, a little throaty, surprisingly lifelike and not as high- pitched as one might expect given their small size, with only some of the singsong quality common to the artificial voice boxes used by the Dreygr, as they had frequently tinkered with the settings of their voice box until their voice matched their sense of self and didn't sound like something out of a badly- dubbed holocom. "Like you said, I have an impressive resume. I also have centuries worth of experience studying, repairing and developing Chevaliers of many different types. I also don't need as much rest as living wrights do and I only require black ichor to sustain my body. I also don't get stressed out when working in the more cramped confined of a starship for extended periods. In fact, I prefer it to working in a planetary workshop or on a space station, but I can make do with either. I'm also capable of defendng myself, my coworkers and the mecha we're working on in the event of assault, wether in normal gravity or in zero g. And speaking of coworkers, I work well both by myself and as part of a team, whichever you need."

Sikká gave the woman some time to digest the things they said, taking one of the plas- paper menus on the table and scanning the contents, their smile behind the menu turning just a little conspirative as they leaned a bit closer, continuing in a voice low enough to ensure only the woman opposite of them would hear it.

"Also, you and your bodyguards took a big risk in coming here. You'll need to make sure the trip was worth the risk you took. You need people who have more interest in supporting your continued claim as the sovereign house of Rook than house Tyr's struggle to reclaim their old position. People who either dislike house Tyr enough or are ambitious enough to support you over the. In my case, I remember enough of my old life to be... less than fond of house Tyr, and I don't owe them any ancestral oaths of loyalty or anything of the sort."

The petite Dreygr leaned a bit back again, thoughtfully tapping a menu entry for a coffeinated drink mixed with a sweet liquor with slender finger. Hmmm, this sounds like it could taste good. Sikká thought as they slowly ran their eyes first over the menu and then over the delicate, manicured fingers of the woman sitting before them. Closing and setting down the menu, Sikká regarded the woman with a friendly smile as they leaned forward again. "I'm also very companionable. I work hard and play hard, but I'm well aware of my limits. So unless your staff only consists of people with no sense of humour who don't know how to relax and have fun I'm sure we'll get along just fine." Only after those words had left their mouth did Sikká realize that the woman's bodyguards or the woman herself might not appreciate any implications of the sort. I guess I'm about to find out."So what do you say, do I have your attention?" they asked, their ears shifting up and down as they attempted to gauge their client's reaction.

Farangiz the young Scorpion leveled her gazed as her two guards brought the figure to her. One quick look and she carefully disseminated a few prepared judgements about the entity before her. The skeins and black veins visible around her neck plus the eyes marked her as Arashii. Of course, the application had revealed that to her quite obviously. However, it did give her a nice bit of practice to keep her sense of perception up especially in something so simple. She breathed quietly as she tensed in the fleshbag her mother had birthed. Leaning back for the Arashii to speak. The Arashic voice was pleasant to her ears and she leaned forward to let the woman get a look at the cleavage she had visibly with her tight bodice underneath the plastfabric shirt.

"You.....dammit." she sighed as the woman began to mention her house. It was at the end their side of the conversation and Farangiz growled a bit as she stared blankly at the smile. Her hands danced across the plaspaper as she tapped her order of a bit of Styhanian Wine and a fresh code from Raoharenga. Her eyes narrowed of course, her silent anger rising at how easily her ruse was broken. If it was this simple, the Tyr Agents following her wouldn't be too long in discerning who she was.

Even if Sadira was her mother, she was still a Lordling, a child to the eyes of the rest of the Imperial Court. A long manicured nail tapped against the plaspaper while she uttered a quiet order in Duza to one of her guards.

"Yes..I am a child of Hormuz, a distant relative. I serve Princes Farangiz and zher siblling as a Lady-In-Waiting." Fara didn't bother to remove the contacts nor do anything else. There was no evidence of what she really looked like. Rumors yes, but no one would assume a pretty doll figure like her was the ruthless murderess who bombed cities to prove a point. So after she made her order she motioned to one of the guards as they placed a small holoprojector.

A standard CLL Anausa appeared with a rounded helm fitted with a singular tall purple fabric crest. The "eyes" of the machine bled a strange green color from within the optics. The chain of its mask was pained a simple black and color set upon it.

"This is my masters future inheritance. The Scorpion, piloted by Sadira herself. Do you notice anything done to it?" she added. A careful eye would note the a series of soulmetal links embedded in the hands and even the long lance the Mecha held. They were shined to a translucent. Fara smiled widely at this fact, and waited for the wright to note it. Only a seasoned member would know what this meant, and only a mad-man would even conceie to do what she had done.

Soulmetal to channel Psi in the Mecha, and right there she almost revealed who she really was. Her eyes brimmed with the madness of lacking fear, and the tenacity to never give up in the face of any challenge. She was the Golden Throne, the one who would carve a path of flesh and bone to her way to the Ancestor throne.

Sikká certainly didn't mind when the woman in front of them leaned forward and gave them a good look at her beautiful cleavage. She's definetly doing that on purpose. Well, don't mind if I enjoy the view. It'll take more than that to distract me though. thought Sikká as a pleasant shiver ran down their spine and they felt a discreet but noticeable tingle in their chest and between their legs. Sierd, how long has it been?

Sikká would have returned the favor, but alas, the andrognye's clothes were not designed to show a lot of skin and their body, petite and toned as it was only had a modest (if in their opinion nice and perky) bust. So the slight Dreygr merely leaned forward a bit while subtly adjusting their sitting position under the table to make themselves more comfortable. The woman's remark about being a distant relative of House Hormuz got her a polite nod from Sikká. I only said it's risky for her to be here as a member of House Hormuz if she gets caught by House Tyr. I get that she's nervous about it though. Sikká was almost glad when the conversation moved on and a small holoprojector was brought up and displayed a projection of what at first seemed to be a standard CLL Anausa, but as Sikká's keen eyes took a closer look they noticed something that made the right's smile widen and threaten to burst into a grin.

"There are a number of translucent soulmetal metal links embedded into the chevalier's hands and lance, here, here and here." siad Sikká as they pointed out the exact positions of the links on the holographic projection with a slender finger. "I imagine there are other links leading to the cockpit to allow your master to channel Psi through the arms and into the weapon." The wright rested their face on their left hand, their already glowing blue eyes positively gleaming with a mixture of joy at the challenge, good- natured amusement and something else. "The thing is, it's supposedly impossible to use Psi on such a scale, and not just on a technical level. Ccertainly not without serious risk of using too much energy too quickly and getting worn out. So your master must be a very powerful genic with a lot of experience in applying their powers in combat and a lot of confidence in their abilities."Or a madman with an inflated opinion of zher powers and ability and no regard for zher own safety. Sikká carefully left that last part unspoken, confident that none of the thought would show on their face. They were beginning to wonder what they had gotten themselves into. Such feats were supposed to be impossible, spoken of only in rumours about the five anathema of legend! If the lord of House Hormuz had somehow acquired such a machine and mastered it's use, then that would make them one of the most lethal combatants in the field! And now they were looking at the prospect of joining the house and possibly earning the honour of once working on such a magnificent machine themself. The thoght send an entirely different kind of excited shivers through Sikkás slight form.

This, combined with the stunning woman in front of them who seemed quite happy to use her striking beauty to attempt to distract them was just amazing. Sikká was confident in their ability to focus on the conversation, but their body still responded. By now the androgyne's nipples and penis were beginning to uncomfortably press against the fabric of their workclothes, and it was slowly becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Ah sket, I should've put on something more comfortable. It's been way too long. Maybe i should go find some nice company to blow off some steam when the interview is over. Sikká thought as they adjusted their seating position again under the table, carefully studying the holographic projection for anything else they should be aware of. They wanted this job, and they would get it.

In the recesses of her mind she was busily working assessing the Wright. As a member of the guild even in a semi-honorary fashion she herself understand the design and work of Mecha. Years upon years of work was at her beck and call, so she awaited the proper response. So tangible was this thought that as she leaned forward again she didn't pay heed to how the Arashii was ogling her cleavage.

She was enthused about what she spoke of, and yet there was a worry under lining her words. The Tyrlings could come out of anywhere and take her if they wanted. She was a major member of a powerful House, but if she wasn't officially on the planet it wouldn't be hard at all to disappear her. Her guards would prove even ore useless as she could easily try to expend with the if necessary to escape. Problem also being that if she were to do so she would lose whatever tenuous hold she bore on her people.

The Wright spoke up at just the right moment. The Soulmetal links were visibly pointed to on the Anausa and in return she leaned closer to her work. The Anausa, or properly, the Whispering Scorpion was the finality of her mother's work. A fifth of the Anathema who could wield Psi on mass scale. Already she dreamed of crushing her enemies using her Tek. The sound of slight giggled at seeing someone recognize the work would like make her sound a tad like a child.

She frowned when the Arashii said it was all impossible. It wasn't and she knew it! A light growl came rumbling out of her at the notion of her work being question. One of the guards gave the Sovereign an uneasy look to let her know how far she was going. I don't care, I don't care at all! NO ONE TELLS ME MY WORK CAN'T HAPPEN. Three second later she calmed and sat back in her chair. If the Arashii pegged who she was all her work to hide this body would be worthless.

She would have no freedom, no freedom at all.

She pulled herself as she watched the Arashii and found herself outright annoyed at the inability she had for reading the cyborg. How could someone made from a corpse be so animated! She winced inwardly at how foolish she was being, She too a deep breath and focused on calming down. Her rage was not going to break free this time and give away her identity. Perhaps five minutes passed before she was willing to speak further. Farangiz crossed her legs in her chair and decided to just carefully choose her words.

"That would be the inference of what we are planning yes. I came here under secrecy because to call you to our homeworld would alert House Tyr to what we are planning. We have taken the jewel of the system and if they learn what we plan to do to our Household Eternal they will respond violently." Her words she laced with urgeny as she let some of her feelings push outward.

That's when she noticed the growing arousal of the Arashii and she bit her lip response, It was small really, a miniscule uncomfortable shift in their seat and the cyborg gave it away. She assumed what she was seeing was true, but again she could easily be misreading the situation. Sierd it. I need to secure the contract, and then I can sierd them later. She made a quick jab at the table and one of her guards paced a piece of digitized plas paper in front of the Wright. A she walked over upon her heels and leaned over the paper to press her thumb onto its surface.

For just a second it remained blank until a circular pressure point in purple appeared around her hand, The paper than blinked as the paper showed the contract in Low Avalonic Script. She then hit the edge of it causing it to go rigid and a scroll bar coalesced on the papers side.

"Please consider this contract and if you wish to serve the family, sign your name here." She indicated the linked and placed a stylus beside the paper. Her body was twisted across the lap of the Arashii. Farangiz's chest was prominently in Sikka's face with her legs pressing up against the chair of the Arashii.

Sikká had to stifle a gasp when the woman stepped closer to them and twisted herself across the elfin Dreygr's lap in a way that all but pushed her generous breasts into their face. Sikká could feel their cheeks grow warm, inhaling her scent and feeling her warmth, feeling their own breath quicken despite their attempts to compose themself, to ignore the growing warmth in her chest and her lap and the way their nipples and erection pressed against her armored engineering suit and moisture built between their legs. If the woman looked down now they would certainly discover Sikká secret. Don't blow this, I need this job.Sierd, she's definetly doing this on purpose. Is she just trying to distract me or is she hitting on me? they thought.

Slowly and carefully the wright's slender arms moved past Fara, to Sikká own surprise without shaking or even visibly trembling. One would have to possess a near inhuman eyesight to notice the subtle tremble that ran through their body, though the soft sheen of sweat on their brow was more noticeable. Oh, it was tempting, so very tempting, to close their arms around her and rest their face against those breasts, but something in the back of her head told her doing so would likely get her thrown out, shot or worse. Nevermind the fact they had dbroken their share of arms of people attempting to grope them without permission. Then their hands reached the contract and Sikká felt some of their strength returning. Delicate fingers gingerly lifted the sheet of plas paper and stylus off the table and brought hem past the teasing Far.a and close enough to Sikkás eyes that they could read it's contents, the electric blue glow of their eyes reflecting off it's surface. But although their eyes scanned the words written on it Sikká found themselves unable to fully concentrate on them, instead catching themselves subtly glancing up at Fara's body every so often. The wright blinked, frustrated with themself and forced their eyes back to the contract.

Never before had Sikká been so grateful for the additional mental processing ability granted to them by their ghost core. The shipborn Dreygr was no lawyer, but they didn't find worthy of objection, at least in their current state. They need me for this job just as much as I need the job, right? They wouldn't try to sierd me over. When they had reached the end they lifted the contract to their face in such a way only the bridge of their nose and eyes were visible, licked their lips and looked up at Fara.

"If this is possible, and I think it is, I want to be one of those who make it happen. I want to make it a reality and see what your master can do with such a masterpiece. And I'm looking forward to seeing where this will take me." she said, bright blue eyes beaming at Fara and their excitement now plainly audible in their voice, the wide, excited smile on her face threatening to burst into an audacious grin, their ears perked up and alert. Sikká lowered the contract and stylus and signed their name on the line in low avalonic script, finishing with a flourish for good measure and handing both items back to Fara with a smile and an expectant look in their eyes.

Long eyelashes obviously fake fluttered over the radiant purple eyes of a scion of Hormuz. Her long thin fingers twisted into hair the color of cinnamon twisted around her head in unceasing curls. She was still staring at the paper as she waited for the Arashii to finally finish off their work. Those eyes drifted down and watched the mechanical movements of the fingers. Fara's nostrils flared just hte smallest, as she looked down and glanced at the Arashii. Was the Arashii attracted to her? Hmmm. Can't be, they don't even know me. I will never understand why people would find me attractive. She was bordering on asexual with her own interest.

Slowly she extricated herself from the presence of the Arashii. Without warning one of her guards pressed ringed hand on her shoulder. She instantly without thinking drew the soulsinger at her waist and held it in a mid-handed pose. The years of training as an Errant taught her to react before even thinking. Noticing her faux pas she apologized to the man and settle the weapon back in it's sheathe. The weapon hadn't even activated to give away its telltale high pitched whine. Instead, she sashayed over the chair across the table and sat down. Her eyes noted the sweat sheen on the Arashii's face, and she did remember the dancing fingers as the cyborg signed their name. The pulsing black ichor that moved in the veins around their neck.

The woman toyed with the idea of bedroom nicities before settling her elbows down on the table surface again. The wright was busy finishing it all up and she had used her ability to dull sound to escape without much notice. Now, Farangiz being the leader of a Great House was not always one for subtlety. But, her skill in manipulation was well founded and had years of training in the halls of her homeland.

The Arashii placed the plaspaper in front of their lip. It was quite cute in a way drawing attention to their shipborn origin. Farangiz blinked rapidly as she settled down her seat using a constant focused breathing to bring her warrior reactions under control. For some reason or another, the mixture of stress and worry had set her on edge. One reason she hated her origin-body was its attraction to others. Not one she controlled in many ways. Her mother was a hard body woman and she had grown up soft bodied and curved. Even when she spent years honing her strength it never lost those accursed curves in a way she wished!

Her other bodies gave her power. One slight and powerful as a leopardess and the other a stalking male leonine handsome rake. Both she had ordered secretly from the Alchemists Guild. She still remembered the day she earned the honor of independent funds after standing atop a small pile of bodies with a smile on her face. They had named her Artaxes for that act, "Golden Throne" in the ancient Duza. Her berserker fury had ripped through her opponents after they had jumped her one day in between training.

Luckly she had been expecting it.

Her mind turned back to the present and the circumstances of hiring someone on an enemy planet. The Scion of House Hormuz watched the little "elf" as they finished their signature. Once done, with the name in Low Avalonic script Fara leaned across the table and once again her cleavage flashed absentmindedly. It was only a minute later as she retrieved the paper and signed it with her full name "Farangiz ye Artaxes e Hormuz" in calligraphic Duza script that they were finished. The heir to the throne of Ormazdshahr sat back in her seat and exhaled lightly.

"Are you ready to move to Duzahk? Or do you need a few weeks to make arrangements?" her words were carefully placed as she slowly stood in her place. They would need to properly set up the workshop for the Wright. She chose her next words carefully, "It is not wildly known, but Lord Farangiz is a member of the Wrights Guild. It is zher work you see in he machine I showed you."

"I'm ready to move as soon as you are. I have most of the things I need to start working on my person and can have the rest of my belongings transferred to Duzahk through my contacts in the Wrights Guild and some local friends. No worries, neither the other members of my quorum nor my friends here owe any loyalty to House Tyr. I'll just have to make some arrangements to make sure my supplies of black ichor get shipped to the right place in the future, and while this planet's grown on me over the years I'm looking forward to a nice, long trip on a starship again." The last words were spoken with a genuine smile on the dreygr's lips. Dreygr or not, sailing the star winds in a starship was in their bones and the elfin wright was all too happy to say goodbye to this planet and settle in for the long haul, preferably on the same deck as their new client. Sikká sighed under their breath. The way the woman flashed her cleavage had not been lost on them, but part of them was already fantasizing about the woman tearing their clothes off in the backseat of a hovercraft on the way to the spaceport. The thought became increasingly hard to ignore and Sikká hurriedly resumed the conversation to get things moving before their desires got the better of them..

"I'm looking forward to working for, and hopefully with Lord Farangiz. Zher work is very impressive and I'd be honored to work on such a amazing Chevalier. And I promise I won't get sulky if I have to work on other machines first to show my skills. I know how these things work."Well, not too much. Maybe a little, in private. Sikká took another look at their client's signature. That's some fancy handwriting. I wonder what else those pretty fingers can- okay stop! Nope, not going there! Sierd me, I need to get it together, at least for a bit! I guess I'll need to pick up a new language if I want to work with them Good thing I'm a quick learner.

"Anyways, I think we're good to go? I'm ready when you are." Sikká rose from their seat, giving their client and her bodyguards a expectant look before turning around and resting their left hand on the seat's backrest. While the former Starborn was small and petite, they had confidence that their backside looked pleasing in their work clothes. Maybe not as good as it would in their favorite outfit, but Sikká had still received some favorable looks from their coworkers. They didn't want to come off as too blunt, but the gesture was casual enough that it could be taken as unintentional. "The sooner we get going the sooner we'll be on the way to your home."And the sooner you can sierd me already.

When she was informed that the Wright's life wouldn't be too hard to move, it brought a smile to her lips. That smile grew as she heard the lack of hard ties between the Star Quorum and House Tyr. The Tyrlings had tried so damn hard to defeat her family in the last war. At least one known assassination attempt on her and Roshan, and still thre were more. Filing Intent with the Assassin's wasn't what most did. There were illegal ways to kill the competition and her family had employed those more than enough throughout the centuries. Shifting in her seat she sat forward a bit to get a bit closer to the table. Of course her chest wobbled and she let out an annoyed growl at how her top was too much. Damn her for such large assets! her body finally settled as she placed her hands on the table to listen.

The former Starborn's love of starships was a foreign idea to a worldborn like Fara. The young Duzahki had grown up riding horses, fighting with swords and drawing her bow. Hell, every year she still participated in a ceremonial horse ride across the open land in front of the ancestral fief of her famiy, Sunfyre Tower, to celebrate what the Ancestors gifted them. Still, as she listened she had to carefully hide an immediate reaction at the praise the Arashii gave her own work. Farangiz was a Wright in her own right, and knew how to modify and even build a Mecha from the ground up. She didn't run her own processes because she preferred to pilot and maintain her family's Etrnals. The ancient Mecha that rested in her family's tombs were more than ready for a few modifications. Who cared if they had to be kept in stasis or they would rampage. it wasn't her fault her mother and grandfather died in one of them. The Scorpion was the jewel of her family and had served since the invention of it's model years ago.

Too bad she always felt wrong after leaving it. like she was leaving a bit of her soul behind.

For a moment she was lost in thought before she replied to the Arashii's question. "Yes, we are good to go." she replied in her accented Avalonic. She hated the damn language and preferred Duza, it flowed better from her mouth and made her feel far more comfortable. This body makes me feel weak, and dirty. Fara pulled the keffiyeh back across her back and wrapped it until only her purple eyes were showing.

Then it struck her. the Wright thought they were going to ride with her. Sket! MOUTHER OF ALL! HIGH QUEEN'S TITS. She cursed in three languages as she brushed her hair lightly at the base of her neck. Slowly, she rose and gestured for Sikka to follow her as she began to walk towards the door. Her things were gathered up by one of the guards as they entered the awaiting craft. The door behind them closed as she leaned back, her back arching as she then absentmindedly said, "I hate this body."

The voice was a mumble, barely audible and only someone close to her would likely make out anything she was saying.